The Final Grade
by garfieldodie
Summary: Calvin finds himself in a pickle when he has to complete several homework assignments in order to get a passing score in first grade lest he repeat, but Dr Brainstorm's personal problems prove to be something of a hindrance as well when someone from his past storms back into his life.
1. The Assignments

**Author's Note: **_Okay, let's see how this goes. This story is being written in the style of a TV Movie from the Series, so it will be six parts long. The story's not quite finished yet, but I'm making progress on it. I'll try to get up new chapters every two weeks at least. It's been a challenge to write, but I'm determined to get through it and move onto the next one. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>The twin suns rose over the planet of the Zorkan Empire. The cries of strange birds rang out across the pastures of orange grass and trees, reverberating along the neon green sky, making their way across the landscape, which was a scene of beauty, save for the large structure that made up the exact center of the empty valley.<p>

It resembled a sort of gothic castle that towered high above all who entered and exited its massive doors. It was a garish purple color with massive flags flapping from the tiled rooftops of the many towers that were filled with imprisoned life forms that had been captured and tortured over the years – including our hero.

At the moment, there was pandemonium from within the castle. Guards were firing their blasters, attempting to strike their small yet cunning moving target. Alien curse words were bellowed within thinly disguised fury that would've normally caused any straight-thinking person to cower in a puddle of his own sweat. Thankfully, our hero was not a straight-thinking person – not by any stretch of the imagination. He was bold, heroic, vigilant and a little bit crazy. He was pretty much the only person crazy enough to attempt to overthrow the Zorkan Empire, knowing full well the likelihood of his survival was about as likely as going through bumper-to-bumper traffic without making obscene gestures at a fellow motorist.

That's right. It's Spaceman Spiff – intrepid as ever and twice as mad.

"Your reign of terror is over, alien scum!" he shouted as he fired his blaster at the guards. "The people of your planet shall be freed from tyranny and sent back to their homes! Sucks to be you!"

"You shall not defeat us, Spiff!" the leader of the empire roared. "We refuse to allow everything we've worked for to collapse because of one small pathetic human being in a blue leotard!"

"Jumpsuit!" Spiff snapped irritably, firing his blaster at him out of spite.

Showing just how cowardly he really was deep down, the leader grabbed one of the guards and used him as a shield, allowing him to die horribly as he turned and ran from the battle.

Furious, Spiff leapt over the corpse and took off after him, ducking and weaving to avoid being shot by the laser fire of the various guards. The chase took him out of the main tower and along the causeway between it and the next one. He saw the leader running for his life across it, already with a pretty decent distance between him and his pursuer.

"You won't get out of this castle alive!" Spiff shouted, firing wildly.

The leader ignored him and ducked into the doorway of the next tower, slamming the door behind him, and when Spiff arrived, he found it to be locked up, and he couldn't force it open. He slammed against it, but it was no good. He only hurt his shoulder. He growled in frustration before adjusting the setting on his blaster and firing at the door handle, blasting it off and breaking the lock, allowing him to push it open, revealing a spiral staircase.

He followed it all the way up to the top of the tower, finally arriving at the top of the structure, finding a flat floor with no roof and nowhere to hide. All he found was his enemy standing against the far wall, and he had a small vial in his hand with some strange noxious liquid in it. He smiled viciously and took a sip from it.

Spiff attempted to fire his blaster at him, but some sort of strange force field flared up, taking him by surprise when it deflected the ammo.

The leader turned, showing rows of razor sharp teeth, giggling madly as red smoke snorted out of his nostrils. "Now, Spaceman Spiff…," he hissed just loud enough for him to hear, "you shall witness what I am _truly _capable of."

Spiff was in the process of finding a more suitable setting on his blaster. He almost missed the transformation occurring right in front of him. His enemy was steadily growing larger, starting to tower over our hero's head. He face went from being gaunt and pointy to round and flabby. His eyes became a strange silver color, matching the strange hair that was growing on top of his head. His entire body was growing larger and rounder, and his skin was turning green with orange spots.

Spiff could only marvel for a moment before his brain finally caught up with the rest of him, and he began to aim his blaster one more time at its highest setting.

The creature loomed over him and growled angrily, with a hint of disapproval in his eyes. He pointed a great big meaty finger at him and bellowed, "CALVIN – PUT THAT RUBBER BAND DOWN AND PAY ATTENTION!"

Calvin blinked and looked at the rubber band in his fingers, all set to fire it at his teacher, Miss Wormwood. The sound of children laughing mockingly rang in his ears as he remembered where he was – in his classroom. He was back in reality, and he had to focus on that. He quickly put the offending would-be weapon away and cleared his throat. "Sorry," he said awkwardly.

Glaring at him, Miss Wormwood returned to the blackboard. "As I was saying, we still having one month of classes left before summer vacation starts and you all move on to second grade. I expect you all to not start slacking off just because you're moving on," she said, throwing one last stern glare in Calvin's direction.

The boy slumped in his chair, ignoring the mocking smirks of his fellow classmates.

"So! I will be reviewing your school work and seeing if you need to improve in any areas. I expect you all to work to your fullest potential. If you've found first grade difficult, I can assure you that second grade will be no picnic."

Calvin sighed heavily.

The bell rang, and everyone started gathering their things and leaving to catch the bus and go home. Calvin was doing the same, but he was feeling a bit down after having a perfectly good fantasy ruined because his teacher was determined to inflict education on him.

"Calvin, I'd like to have a word with you, please," she said sternly.

He froze, momentarily terrified of what that meant. He turned away from the throng of students leaving the classroom and headed for the teacher who stood with her arms crossed by her desk with a very disapproving expression.

"Yes, Miss Wormwood?" he asked anxiously.

"Calvin, you have a lot of nerve constantly daydreaming when you're supposed to be learning."

"… Thank you?"

She rubbed her eyes behind her glasses. "_Calvin_… you need to focus on your schoolwork – now more than ever."

"Why? What's so important about now?"

"I've been reviewing your grades, and I can tell that you're doing poorly enough to necessitate a repeat of the first grade."

"Oh… Yeah, I've done enough of that already…"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, what do I need to do to fix this?"

Miss Wormwood went to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "I've taken the liberty of compiling a list of assignments that you can complete to raise your grade," she said, handing it to him.

Calvin took it and looked it over. "Wow, this is a long list," he said, skimming it before turning it over. "That continues on the back!"

"You've got a lot of work to do if you want to move onto the next grade, Calvin," Miss Wormwood said firmly. "Complete all those assignments within a month, and your grade will be high enough for you to move onto the next grade."

"Just complete them? Do I have to actually get them right?"

"You need to get one hundred percent on all of them."

Calvin gritted his teeth. "Okay…," he said slowly, going over the list. "Write a one hundred page essay about the moon landing… Complete five math worksheets… Write an argument for any given topic… Classify twenty species of animals with scientific terms and fifty word essays for each…"

"And I expect _neat _handwriting."

"And you expect me to have _all of this done _in a month?"

"There is no reason why you shouldn't be able to complete those assignments, Calvin. The rest of your classmates have managed."

"Yeah, over the course of an entire year!"

"You had every opportunity to do the work over an entire year."

"Well, I… I had… other stuff going on."

"Nothing is more important than an education, Calvin. Now run along, or you'll miss your bus."

Calvin grumbled as he put the paper in his backpack and ran out of the room, away from the tyrant of his miserable life. He had a lot of work to do.

* * *

><p>Hobbes was laid out across the rug in the living room and enjoying a mid-afternoon slumber, dreaming of pouncing on a herd of buffalo in the Serengeti, even though he really wasn't sure where the Serengeti was and whether or not there were any buffalo in them. His nose twitched in his sleep, and he licked his lips eagerly.<p>

Then he heard the sound of something pulling up to the house outside. He rolled over and listened to it, slowly emerging from Dream Land. He would've recognized it anywhere. It was the sound he listened for five days out of the week. His tail twitched as his senses and instincts took control of his body.

It was the sound of the school bus.

In an instant, he was racing across the house on all four feet, running up to the potted plant in the living room, peeking through the leaves, growling quietly in anticipation. His feline eyes glistened in the light from the overhead ceiling fan, showcasing his anticipation.

His acute feline hearing picked up the sounds involved in the activity outside. He heard the sound of the bus doors sliding open, someone walking down the stairs onto the sidewalk, the doors closing, the footsteps approaching the house as the bus drove away, and finally, the click of the doorknob turning. In a flash, he had jumped from the plant to the rug before the door, with his tail flicking madly.

The doorknob finished turning, and there was his best friend walking through the door, for some reason forgetting what he forgot every day. "I'M HOME!"

Hobbes catapulted himself off the floor and collided with Calvin, and they both went sailing out the door and into the lawn, creating a large crater in the ground that threw dirt and mud everywhere.

"Wheeee!" Hobbes cheered. "You're home! Now you can feed me! Come on!"

"Get off me, you mangy furball!" Calvin shouted, shoving his attacker off of him. "I know your ideas of how I could 'feed you'!"

"I'm aghast! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Calvin dusted himself off as best he could and headed back into the house, kicking his shoes off and heading upstairs. Hobbes shook himself off and followed.

"So what are we doing today?" the tiger asked him amiably.

"Well, thanks to the tyranny of my first grade teacher, she's just informed me that if I don't start getting better grades and complete a whole new round of extra assignments within the next month, I've got to repeat first grade."

"Really? Wow. Who would've thought that blowing off your homework and mouthing off in class would have consequences?"

"Shut up and give me a hand, will you? I need to get this finished."

Hobbes nodded quietly and followed his human friend up the stairs, curious to see what assignments he'd been stuck with tonight. They arrived in the bedroom, where Calvin tossed his backpack and books on the bed and pulled out the list of assignments, looking over them.

"So what've you got?" Hobbes asked.

"Oh, the usual amounts of pointless information – the density of gas planets, the locations and histories of various third-world countries, if a train heads north at three pm, what time will it pass an airplane flying to Moscow south by southwest?"

"Yikes," Hobbes said, taking the assignment list. "She's got it in for you, doesn't she?"

"I swear, you fire a few spitballs, rubber bands and try to run away from the building a few times, and you're suddenly marked for life!"

"So what now?"

"Now we get to work. If we work fast, we can be done in ten minutes…"

"… I'm sorry, ten minutes?"

"Come on! We have things to do later! Let's just fill in some random answers and we'll get it over with."

"But don't you have to answer the questions _correctly_?"

"Oh, stop being so wishy-washy! Come on! You start in on the geography, and I'll do the science stuff."

Hobbes shrugged as he took the assignment sheet and read over the appropriate tasks. "Let's see… We need to recount the basic history of the people of Africa and name all the major resources, then we need to list five facts about every president of the United States…"

"Yeah, just make something up. I'll start in on the whole life cycle of the bumblebee and the hibernation patterns of a grizzly bear."

Hobbes let out a low whistle. "Miss Wormwood sure is big on education."

"I'll say. No wonder she's so miserable."

"When is all of this due?"

"Sometime before the last day of school."

"Well, that's a month… We should be able to finish it all by then."

"I want it done _now_! Come on, Hobbes – get your priorities in order! I'm sure someone as smart as me can fake realistic enough looking answers that will trick her into thinking I've done them right."

Hobbes set the assignment sheet down. "Yeah… I'm just thinking back to when you had that bug collection, the leaf collection, the report on bats, the various book reports…"

"Are you making a point?"

"You're very bad at fooling people, is what I'm saying. I remember once you fell in a mud hole, and instead of admitting to your parents that you tripped, you created this entire scenario where a mad scientist attacked you and had you brainwashed into falling in the mud hole for his nefarious purposes. I seem to recall you getting grounded for tracking mud all over the house."

"It was plausible! Can you believe it didn't work?!"

"Yes, very much so. Your parents never believe you when you're telling the truth about the aliens and nefarious evildoers we have to face. What makes you think they'll buy a total lie?"

Calvin scowled. "Well, what the heck am I supposed to do? I've got so much work to complete! Miss Wormwood is out to keep me in first grade for the rest of my life!"

"I doubt that very much. I imagine keeping you in her class year after year would prove a bit taxing on her Marlboro-stained heart."

"Well, I've got do something, or else I'm in big trouble!"

"Can't you go to her for help? Maybe she can guide you through the assignments."

"Are you kidding? It's because she's a lousy teacher that I'm in this mess in the first place!"

Hobbes rubbed his eyes. "It's clear to me that you need a little extra help in these tasks. Whom can you go to?"

Calvin thought long and hard about whom could help him, using so much brainpower to do so he probably could've done the assignments himself, but naturally, he didn't make the connection.

Then, a large grin split across his face. He ran to the MTM and flipped the lid open. "MTM – put in a call to Sherman's lab. I'm hiring a tutor!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, things in Yellowstone National Park had been pretty quiet in recent months. There had been no strange sightings in a long time, and rumors of someone living under the park had been quelled as of late.<p>

However, at least a mile under the ground, the person living under the park had other ideas. He was scheming his latest plot to take over the world. Things had definitely taken a change for him. His name was all over the Internet, and he had several fan clubs dedicated to his one off appearance last summer when he allegedly abducted a small boy.

Of course, Jack was quick to point out that those fan clubs were being headed by a bunch of lonely deranged weirdoes who were ready to latch onto anything that was of vague interest to them, but that didn't slow down Dr Brainstorm in the slightest. He was ready for anything.

"This is it, Jack! This is… _the big one_!"

"Well, just wait for me to finish my soda, and I'll join you in an instant."

"No, there's no time for that! We've got things to do! Hostages to take! Governments to topple! Candy to steal! Now come on! Stop dawdling and get over here and gawk at my genius!"

Jack heaved his usual world-weary sigh and slouched off into the testing area for Dr Brainstorm's inventions. He was fiddling around with a large computer-looking device that took up the entire far wall. He was wearing yellow goggles and a black lab coat, like he always did when he did particularly important work.

"So what's the happs, Captain?" the robot deadpanned.

"Behold, Jack!" Dr Brainstorm bellowed as he gingerly inserted rows of wires. "I am putting the finishing touches on my latest world-conquering device!"

"Oh joy. Can't wait to see how this one burns your eyebrows off."

"Shush, you! I'm just about ready!"

"To show me how it works or to _gloat_ about how it works?"

Dr Brainstorm glared at him before he finally put some wires into their proper places. Satisfied that everything was ready, he stood back and joined Jack on the far end of the room.

"What is the single most important thing to the human race, Jack?"

"Arguing?"

"No."

"Yelling?"

"No."

"Self-righteousness?"

"Shut up and listen! It's food, Jack! The whole world is dependent on food, and they're slowly waking up to the fact that we can't rely on artificial and processed foods forever! Without homegrown fruits and veggies, not to mention wheat and dairy, we as a planet will slowly fall apart!"

"… Go on."

"Hence my new invention!" the madman exclaimed, gesturing madly at the large machine before them. "A machine that will control the speed of crop growth and allow me to manipulate all produce all over the planet! Soon, the world as we know it shall fall apart and be forced to bow down to _me_!"

Jack nodded absently. "Okay… What's it called?"

The question threw Brainstorm for a loop. "Eh?"

"The machine – what's it called?"

"… I don't know! I haven't thought that far ahead!"

"You've got a super all-powerful machine that can control the way food grows all over the world, and you haven't bothered to come up with a name for it?"

"Well, what's the point? What's in a name? As long as it does what I want it to, it's fine with me!"

"It needs a name."

"It does not!"

"Does."

"Why?!"

"Filing purposes."

"… What?"

"Well, you expect me to file everything you do. I can't file it if it doesn't have a name."

"That's what this is about? You're ripping my brain cells apart verbally because of _filing_?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"You just can't be happy with _anything_, can you?! It's always going to be whining and moaning about every little detail until I'm so frustrated I can't see straight! Well, let me tell you – _I'm not naming this thing just to _spite _you!_ It will forever go through its proud existence as an unnamed entity because _you _thought it would be adorable just to annoy me! How do you like _them _apples?!"

Jack thought about that tirade for a full three seconds before he turned to the machine. "I think it looks like a 'Bertram', personally."

Dr Brainstorm looked between him and the machine incredulously. "… Okay, now I _know_ you're just messing with me."

Jack merely smirked.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, the mad scientist stood before his machine. "Look, Jack – look through your databases. Have I ever tried a plan like this?"

"Controlling the world's food supply? I don't think so…"

"Good! Just as I thought! I've finally had a new idea! I've been going around in circles for years, I tell you! Now I'm free to go ahead with minimal snarking from you or anyone else!"

"Oh, we'll find something. Don't worry."

With a snarl, Dr Brainstorm turned around and resumed his work. "I'm going to start running some tests."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I've set up a crop simulation in the next room. I'm going to see how it effects the vegetation."

"Crop simulation?"

"Correct."

"… Does this have anything to do with that huge pile of dirt in the kitchen?"

"Well, I had to put it _some_where!"

"I suppose…"

"Now be gone from my sight! I have work to do!"

"Okeydokey."

Jack strode out of the room all set to come back at anytime when his creator inevitably set his hair on fire or dislocated his arm. It was just one of those things that he knew he had to keep an eye out for.

He returned to his chair with the intent of getting as much television as he could before the unavoidable disaster. He still wasn't impressed with the end of the most recent season finales, but he figured everyone would either live happily ever after or die horribly for the sake of drama.

The disaster occurred, but it didn't occur the way he thought it would.

It made itself known in the form of a flashing light on the console of the main control panel. He didn't notice that it was flashing for a long time, and by the time he did, it was far too late to do anything about it. His metal brow furrowed.

It was the light to indicate the elevator was in motion.

Jack knew that the trip down was a long ride, so who knew how long it had been traveling. He knew it was getting closer, though. He heaved a tired sigh and made his way to the control panel, checking to see what the readouts were saying.

It was a human life form – singular and alone. They didn't have any weapons to speak of, or at least none that could be picked up by the scanners. He didn't find any of that particularly odd, however, because he noticed one thing that _did _draw his attention.

The life form was female.

He quickly started running a scan on the elevator itself, but it wasn't buckling under the weight of anything particularly heavy, so that ruled out Dr Brainstorm's mother right off the bat. There were no angry shrieks emanating from the audio receptors, so it wasn't his sister either. That pretty much put a cap on all known possible suspects. Outside of his family, Dr Brainstorm didn't have much female company, and those two were the only ones who knew how to get to his lab.

Still, the readouts said the woman was unarmed, so maybe it was just a saleswoman that had gotten lost, or a tourist that had bumped into the rock that hid the entrance.

At that moment, the elevator let out a soft 'ding', and Jack turned around to see who had been vexing him for the last half a minute.

The doors slid open, and out stepped a woman who was most definitely _not _related to the Brainstorms. She was about five foot six, shoulder length brown hair, ruby red lipstick and a denim jacket over a black t-shirt and blue jeans. She carried a small purse, hanging from her shoulder.

Jack's eyes widened as recognition flooded him.

She looked across the room and smiled at him with just a hint of frost.

"Remember me?" she asked in a smooth tone.

Jack nodded faintly, trying not to look too surprised. "Veronica…," he said quietly. "Good grief… I never thought I'd see you again…"

"Nor I you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes… What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Frank. Is he home?"

"He's… Yeah, he's… working, actually. This is probably a bad time."

Veronica chuckled. "Oh, don't tell me he's still trying to take over the world," she said with what sounded like fondness.

Jack nodded again. "Yeah… He just never learns."

"Well, can you tell him I'm here?"

It was a tricky moment for Jack. He'd never felt so awkward before. Well, actually, he had, but it had been a long time ago, and Veronica had been the source of it then, too. Still, he couldn't think of a decent reason to send her away, so he simply gestured toward the kitchen table. She smiled in response and headed over to a chair, sitting down and folding her hands atop the table.

Uneasy, Jack walked back into the testing room where he found Dr Brainstorm working on the machine again.

"Hey, uh, Frank?"

"_DR BRAINSTORM!_"

"Yeah, whatever. I have some rather awkward news to deliver…"

"Oh, for pity's sake! What is it _now_?" he demanded, throwing his wrench to the floor angrily. "Why do you always have to barge in here right when I'm in the middle of something? I told you not to bother me with trivialities!"

"Veronica's here."

Dr Brainstorm froze where he stood at the mention of her name. His expression didn't change, but his entire face seemed to sag around it. He slowly tilted his head to one side in a quizzical manner.

"Veronica?" he asked.

"Yes," Jack confirmed.

"Veronica… my _ex-girlfriend_?"


	2. Enter the Woman

**Author's Notes: **_Apologies for being a day late. College and work have me a little burnt out._

* * *

><p>Veronica sat at the table, smiling sweetly at the figure across the room.<p>

Dr Brainstorm stared back at her, the picture of apprehension. He hadn't felt this tongue-tied since he was a teenager. He had absolutely no idea what to say to this woman. There was so much history between them that he could feel it. So many things left unsaid…

"Hi, Frank," she said in a neutral tone.

Dr Brainstorm bit down the natural response to hearing his first name and forced a smile. "Veronica," he said evenly.

"You're looking good."

"Yeah… So are you."

There was a long silence between them, during which Dr Brainstorm realized he was starting to work up a sweat, and he knew he'd have to change his shirt later. He fought for something to say that didn't sound utterly ridiculous.

"… How's your pet goldfish?"

She took a moment to register the question. "… Died twelve years ago."

"Ah. Well, you're gonna see that with goldfish…"

She nodded distantly.

The awkwardness was worse now.

Finally, Dr Brainstorm couldn't stand it anymore. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back."

He turned and ran back into the testing room where Jack was waiting, leaning against the machine.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

Dr Brainstorm slammed the door shut and leaned against it. "Terrible," he replied between gasps for breath. "She looks _great_."

"Drat."

"How'd she find this place?! She's half the reason we moved to Yellowstone!"

"She was?"

"I didn't tell you?"

"Look, Frank, just calm down. She can't bully us around anymore. We're different now. We've both moved on."

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right."

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"… Remember the Niagara Falls job?"

Jack nodded wistfully. "Yeah, we were inseparable, weren't we? We…" Then he caught himself. "No! No, no, no! That's in the past! We're different now!"

"Right, sorry… It's just… Her very presence…"

"I know. Emotions are being stirred up. Just remember that you are strong. Remember that you are tough. In fact, remember that she lived in our basement for three years!"

Dr Brainstorm blinked. "You're right. I've got to tell her to leave. No stories. No reminiscing. I just tell her to leave."

"Hop to it."

Summoning whatever courage he could scrape up from within his psyche, Dr Brainstorm turned and marched back out of the room and across to where Veronica was sitting. She simply smiled at him.

"How's Jack?"

"Smart aleck. Same as usual."

"You appreciate it deep down. You know you do."

"I've got a slowly-growing tumor that would like to respectfully disagree with you."

She smiled again with fondness. "Frank, you've kept him around all this time. Part of you must appreciate him."

"Yeah, well… Why are you here, Veronica?"

Her smile faltered, and she looked at her hands in her lap. She fidgeted for a moment before looking him in the eye. "I'm here for a visit."

Dr Brainstorm raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Just a visit?"

"Well, I heard you'd moved out here, and I was in the area…"

"Why didn't you call or email?"

"Because you've been hiding from me for years now."

"… Fair point. How long are you in town for?"

"Not long. Just a few days. I just wanted to hang out with you."

"That's it? Hang out? A few days? Not long?"

She let out an affectionate giggle. "Yes, Frank."

Dr Brainstorm glanced back in the direction of the door to the testing room where he knew Jack was waiting for him to throw her out. He thought about it for a few seconds before he steeled his resolve and prepared to go through with it.

"So… where're you staying?"

They were both surprised by the question.

"Oh, just a motel in town."

"You want Jack's room? I can clear his stuff out…"

"HEY!" Jack's voice shouted from behind the closed door.

"That's sweet, Frank, but I'm fine at the motel."

"Okay. Just thought I'd offer."

Veronica smiled. "So… what are you up to these days?"

"I'm planning out my latest quest for global conquest."

"Oh? What's your latest plan?"

Dr Brainstorm tried to sound humble and not the least bit full of himself. "Ohhh, it's nothing, really. Just trying to control the planet's food supply. Nothing fancy."

"Oh, really? Have you told your mother yet? She may be excited about that one."

He was surprised by how easily the laughter poured out of him. It wasn't a huge joke, but it was still worthy of a chuckle. "Yeah, it'll be interesting…"

"Can I see the machine?"

"Huh? Oh! Er, yes, I suppose so…"

"Great!"

Feeling strangely warm, Dr Brainstorm led her through the door and into the testing room where an irritated Jack was waiting. Veronica looked up at the massive machine.

"Wow…," she said in complete awe. "How long have you been working on this?"

Dr Brainstorm shrugged awkwardly. "Oh, you know… Nights and weekends."

"Wow… You've really made some improvements in how you build things. I remember when you were still using duct tape and chewed gum to hold things together."

"Well, we all have to start somewhere."

Jack rolled his eyes. He had absolutely no idea where this was going, but he suspected it was going to go badly for all involved.

* * *

><p>Andy led Calvin through the house to the secret door in the wall that led to his pet hamster's lab.<p>

"Are you sure about this, Calvin? Sherman may be great with solving the world's energy crisis and transcribing ancient languages into pig latin, but he's never really taught first grade subjects before."

"What are you saying? He's too good to help me?"

"No, I'm saying he might not be able to help you. He's used to teaching grad students in physics and science and history. He's not used to teaching little kids to conjugate irregular verbs and how to add basic numbers."

"Look, Andy, you've been home schooled most of your life," Calvin said condescendingly. "You don't understand how hard school is for the commonwealth. We have to put up with _other kids_. We have to stand in lines. We have to sit _next to each other_. My teacher is not my mom. My teacher believes that what she's doing is _genuinely important_. That's how deluded she is."

Andy blinked. "Right, because educating the masses is stupid."

"Exactly! We're never going to learn anything if we keep getting forced to memorize stuff long enough to pass a quiz!"

"When was the war of 1812, Calvin?"

"Don't start with me!"

Andy rolled his eyes and headed for the keypad on the wall, pressing a button. "Sherman?"

A voice crackled over the intercom. "What?"

"Calvin needs help with something."

"Does it involve saving the world from some mistake he made himself?"

"Not saving the world, but he still made a mistake."

"Hey!" Calvin exclaimed.

Sherman's voice sighed. "Fine. Send him down."

The door slid open, and Andy moved out of the way so Calvin could pass him. "If you need any help, my mom still has the lesson plan when _I _was in first grade."

"With no offense intended to your mother, Andy, push off. I've tried the human way. Now it's time to go the hamster way."

Calvin headed down into the depths of the lab, and the door slid shut behind him.

Andy shook his head. "This ain't gonna end well," he muttered, heading back to his room.

* * *

><p>Sherman looked over the various assignments that Calvin had handed him. He let out a whistle as he looked them over. "She's definitely got you busy for the next four weeks."<p>

Calvin nodded, sitting in an office chair in the lab. "I know, right? She's totally unreasonable! She's so determined to make me learn stuff! I hate having unnecessary knowledge forced on me!"

Sherman sighed. "Look, I know this might be a bit hard to believe, but you need to understand how important an education is."

"But it's all so _useless!_ Who cares about math? Who cares about adding and subtraction? Who cares about fractions and decimals and paying taxes? Who decided that we needed to do this to ourselves?!"

Sherman cleared his throat. "Well, Calvin, how do you feel about money?"

Calvin came up short. "What?"

"Do you know how to count money?"

"Yes. What's your point?"

"That's math."

Calvin stared. "… I… knew that," he said lamely.

"And how did you learn how to count money?"

"Well… come on! Who _doesn't_ know how to count money? Money's necessary! Without money, there's no way for me to buy stuff!"

Sherman nodded. "Well, if you don't learn to do basic math, you're going to be broke."

"What? How?"

"Because if everyone you try to do business with knows how to add and subtract, and you don't, then you're going to be broke."

Calvin blinked. "Well…"

"And as for science, you know that science is fun. All the stuff you've built and helped me build – you think there wasn't just a touch of science involved in all of these things?"

"But that's science on _my _terms! I _want _to do those things! I can't stand doing the lame pointless science that Miss Wormwood inflicts on me!"

"It's still necessary, Calvin."

"How necessary can it be if it's not interesting?"

Sherman sighed. "Look, I'm not making the rules here. Your teacher is. We have to abide by them. Now come on, we need to get this going. We'll start with the history assignments."

Calvin crossed his arms defiantly. "As if I cared about what a bunch of dead people did! They're dead! How important can they be?"

"Don't knock dead people, laddie," Sherman scolded. "Being dead isn't that easy. It's not something any idiot can do. That's why there's so many still alive!"

Momentarily thrown by that declaration, Calvin was silenced.

Satisfied, Sherman began skimming the assignments. "Okay, here's an interesting one – the expedition of Lewis and Clark?"

"How the heck is _that_ interesting?"

"Because it tells a story of two men on a great big road trip across the nation!"

"That's not interesting! I hate road trips! I hate vacations of any kind!"

"You've had a bad track record with vacations. Your father's camping trips have turned you against actual vacations. Try to think of Lewis and Clark's journey as a great big adventure that two friends went on, in a world that they didn't know anything about…"

"But they _didn't_! They explored _America_! Everyone knows about America!"

Sherman rubbed his eyes. "They didn't back _then_…," he said slowly.

"Why not?"

"Because it was still new to them!"

"Why didn't they just send someone else to do it for them?"

"Because they wanted to do it themselves!"

Calvin snorted derisively. "Man, what a pair of losers."

Sherman growled with frustration. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Being so stupid."

"Hey! I'm not stupid!"

"I _know_ you're not! So why are you acting like you are?"

"I'm just asking sensible questions!"

"You're deliberately trying to stop information from entering your brain!"

"Hey, it's a free country! I should be allowed to control what information I allow into my mind! I know my rights!"

"Yes, you _do _have the right to be an uneducated ignoramus, but you're not going to get any further than a gas station attendant if you can't get past first grade!"

"I can get by without this stuff! I can get by without knowing who Lewis and Clark were!"

"But you won't pass the assignment if you don't! That's what school is, Calvin! You have to memorize the facts long enough to complete the assignments and pass the tests if you want to get to the next grade level! Otherwise, you'll be in first grade for the rest of your life! What are you going to do then, huh? You going to just sit around and let your mind atrophy because you can't bring yourself to do the work?"

Calvin blinked. Part of him knew what Sherman was saying was true, but he was a lazy six-year-old who didn't want to try at anything and just run around doing his own thing. He could feel that tiny part of himself that wanted to do well in school struggling to get free, but his laziness was bigger than it, and punched the puny part of him with such force that Calvin reasserted himself in an instant and sat down in the chair.

"Yes, I am," he growled.

Sherman shook his head. "Then I can't help you."

"What?"

"Calvin, if you're not going to put any effort into this, then you _deserve _to repeat first grade well into your forties. Now leave."

Calvin sat in stunned silence as the hamster turned his back on him and went back to his work. That small part of him was trying to summon the strength to apologize, but the lazy part of him had now been joined by the selfish part of him that couldn't get him to admit that he had done something wrong. He leapt from the chair in a fury and stormed back up the stairs, taking the papers with him.

Sherman could only listen sadly as the door to his lab was slammed shut.

* * *

><p>Dr Brainstorm's eyes scanned the mess of wires and cables that made up the back of his giant machine. There were various thin shades of blue, green, red, yellow and orange lining the walls – all the designer colors, he noted.<p>

He was still doing preliminary checks to make sure the machine was still working the way he wanted it to. He wasn't as clueless as many people thought. He had the ability to learn from previous mistakes. He simply preferred to tweak his plans in the tiniest ways possible until he had it just right. That's why he had kidnapped Socrates several times until it became clear that kidnapping him was part of the problem, and thus, he did away with it.

He continued working with the various wires, checking the surge protectors and making sure the currents were flowing at the right speed, but he was feeling a little distracted. He didn't want to admit it, but just knowing that _she _was in the next room, looking over his various inventions with curiosity, was making him uneasy. He wasn't sure just what she would find and what it would make her think of him. After they broke up, he'd been hoping to make something of himself so he'd be able to make her regret leaving him.

Jack entered the room, curious to see what he was doing, given the circumstances. Seeing his creator in a tizzy was always entertaining, but what with his ex filly walking around in the next room, a new level of fascination had been added to the mixture. He found the man in question kneeling over into an open hatch on his new machine, putting wires in the wrong way around and trying them into random knots before untying them again.

"How are the bamboo and coconuts holding together, Professor?" he asked.

Dr Brainstorm growled at him. "Push off. I'm pretending to be busy."

"I can tell, and she could probably tell too. You're avoiding her."

"Your habit of constantly stating the obvious is getting annoying, Jack."

"You know what she's like. She won't leave until you tell her to. You're not going to get anywhere just hiding back here."

"I'd like to hide out in Spain. What are the odds we can pack up the lab and move within the next ten minutes?"

"Even with the nanos running at full capacity, we'd need half an hour at most."

"Darn. Not fast enough."

"So are you going to ask her to leave?"

Dr Brainstorm threw down his fistful of wires and sat in silence for a moment, massaging his temples and collapsing from his knees and onto his side, trying to keep his growing migraine at bay. After a moment, he sat up straight and looked as determined as he could.

"Fine, I'll do it."

"Good. She's in the garage, pawing over your various broken inventions."

Sighing with disappointment, Dr Brainstorm got to his feet and made his way across the lab to the door to the garage.

When he walked inside, he saw Veronica inspecting a pair of the old time machines that lay broken on the workbench. She was running her fingers along the jagged glass on the busted door of the first one, and something about how she didn't seem bothered by it made Dr Brainstorm feel… _bothered_.

"Veronica…?" he said slowly.

She looked up at him with a smile. "Still haven't got a grip on time travel, eh, Frank?" she said teasingly.

Dr Brainstorm cleared his throat. "Look, Veronica, it's getting late…"

"I still keep thinking about that machine you're working on in there, you know."

That brought him up short. "… What?"

"Your food controlling device – I think that's great."

"You do?"

"Sure! What's the old saying? 'A civilization is three meals away from anarchy'?"

"… Um…"

"If you could find a way to control food all over the planet at exactly the same time, you'd be able to plunge the civilized world into chaos. Then, right when people are about to starve to death, you step in with your new machine that can provide food for everyone. The world would be at your mercy! _You'd _be the only one who could save the world!"

"… Wouldn't they be suspicious? There's bound to be _someone _clever enough to figure out my machine _took away _the food just so I could give it back."

"Well, they won't have a choice! They'll have to get the food back from you anyway! Put fail safes on the machine so that they can't program the machine themselves! Put something in the food so they can't find a way to overpower you! You've got to look at this from every angle, Frank!" she exclaimed, gripping his shoulders tightly, getting right in his face.

Dr Brainstorm could feel his face getting red. "Every angle…?"

"Every angle!"

"… Are you doing anything tonight?"

She seemed momentarily startled by his question, but then a small smile spread across her face. "Nothing in particular…"

Unknown to either of them, a certain robot was banging his head against the wall in frustration.


	3. A Robot's Appeal

"So let's figure this out," Hobbes said reasonably. "You tried to get Sherman to help you with your homework, and when he started pointing out inconvenient truths, you got defensive and left."

"That's not what I said at all!" Calvin snapped. "If you're going to side with me, Hobbes, you're going to have to pay attention to what I'm saying!"

"We tigers have the uncanny ability to read between the lines."

Calvin growled and flopped down on the bed, surrounded by papers that Miss Wormwood had given him to fill out. "What am I going to do? I can't finish this stuff on my own! Why won't that stupid hamster help me?"

Hobbes thought about it for all of one second. "Well, for openers, you're stubbornly refusing to do the work necessary of you." He instinctively ducked his head as Calvin hurled a book at him.

At that moment, they heard a tap at the window, and they looked up to see Socrates grinning at them behind the glass. Despite his better judgment, Calvin gestured to Hobbes to go ahead and open the window.

Socrates bounded into the bedroom with an enthusiastic yet demure pounce, landing lightly on the floor on the other side of the bed with a gentle lightness.

Hobbes whistled appreciatively. "You're coming along nicely, Socrates."

Socrates took a humble bow. "Thank you, thank you." Then he noticed Calvin lying on his bed, glaring at the ceiling. "Uh-oh. What happened to ignite the boy's fury this time?"

"He's upset because Sherman pointed out how little he's willing to work for his grades."

"Shut up, Hobbes."

Socrates observed the papers scattered around the room. He picked one up and skimmed over it. "Wow. This is your homework?"

"My teacher's a tyrant who's determined to make me do all this unnecessary work."

"What prompted it?"

Calvin's eyes flitted to the left awkwardly. "… She decided the work I had done wasn't good enough for her stupidly high standards," he replied.

Socrates shook his head. "Well, that's just disgusting. I hate it when our nation's educators abuse their power like that."

"Thank you! Finally! Someone on _my _side!"

"Oh, absolutely! Imagine the nerve of this woman – expecting you to do what's expected of you! I mean, really, the nerve!"

"I know!"

Socrates looked over at Hobbes. "He's not getting it," he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

"One of his more defining traits is his ability to resist any sort of actual moral," Hobbes explained.

Socrates folded his hands behind his back and walked up and down the room like a big city lawyer. "So, Calvin," he continued, "if you don't finish the work expected of you, what's going to happen to you?"

Calvin shrugged. "Miss Wormwood will flunk me."

"And what will happen to you then?"

"I'll have to repeat first grade."

Socrates feigned shock. "You mean to tell me this woman will have to put you through the torment of first grade a _second time_?"

"Exactly! I can't believe it!"

"Why not?"

"Because… well, I mean, _come on_! Why should a kid as smart as me have to do the work?"

"Why would it be a problem to do the work if you're so smart?"

Calvin was brought up short. He fought for an answer. "Uh… I have better things to do than doing some dumb assignment she came up with just to keep me busy!"

"Such as?"

"Er… I have to maintain my dictatorship in the **G**ET **R**ID **O**F **S**LIMY GIRL**S** club!"

Hobbes remembered something and pulled a notepad out of Calvin's sock drawer. "Actually, as far as I can tell, we're all caught up for this month," he said, reading it over. "In fact, we're caught up all the way through to next month as well because of all those extra meetings we keep having. You could probably afford to slack off until July."

Calvin stared at him for a long moment. "… You're not helping, Hobbes," he growled at last.

Hobbes simply shrugged and put the notepad away.

Socrates resumed speaking. "So what else do you have to do that's preventing you from doing your homework?"

Calvin racked his brain for something else. "… I have television shows to watch!" he declared.

"Reruns," Hobbes said, holding up a TV Guide.

"Try again," Socrates said sharply.

"… I need time to run around and be free in the great outdoors!"

Hobbes held up a newspaper. "It's going to be raining most of this week."

"Anything else?" Socrates asked.

"… I… need to… invent a… new… _thing_…?" he attempted lamely.

"You most certainly do _not_," Hobbes snapped. "You have two transmogrifiers, two duplicators, two different time machines, a super air horn, a freezer and that piece of chalk that sprouts brick walls that you've only used once. What else could you possibly need to invent?"

"And before you answer that, the MTM basically does everything you need anyway," Socrates chipped in.

"Cheers, mate," MTM said from the desk, reminding them all that he was still in the room.

Calvin fumbled for another excuse. "Okay… well, what about when the world needs protecting?"

"You're not the sole protector of the planet, you know," Socrates said. "We could do it for you."

"Oh, _please_!" Calvin sneered. "I'm the leader! You guys need me!"

"We can survive one or two apocalypses without you, I'm sure," Hobbes replied calmly. "Your academic future is more important. How's it going to look if you're one day awarded the Medal of Honor, and you're still a first grader?"

"Yeah, no one would be able to take you seriously," Socrates agreed.

Calvin finally snapped. "Well, whose side are you on?!"

"Face it, Cally – you don't have any discernable reason to not finish this homework. The only thing stopping you is your own disinterest in doing anything you don't want to do."

Calvin folded his arms and glared at them. "Fine. I don't want to do it. Sue me. I'd rather sit here and rot than actually do my homework."

"Good. The first step is admitting you have a problem."

This got the boy's defenses riled up. "_I'm _not the one with the problem! It's Miss Wormwood! She's obsessed with making my life stupidly difficult, and I hate her stupid guts for everything she puts me through!"

"It sounds more like she's giving you a chance to escape," MTM suggested.

"What?"

"Think about it. She's giving you these extra assignments so you can bring your grade point average up and get out of first grade. She's giving you an exit route. The only thing stopping you _is _you."

It was a tricky moment for Calvin because deep inside, he knew what they were saying was true, but the lazy side of his mind was absolutely determined to fight off his more altruistic side. He tried his best to think of an excuse – _any _excuse – that would get him out of these assignments, but his fighting spirit was losing steam. He knew there was no way out, and by this point, he had been ground down to the point that he couldn't battle it anymore.

To the surprise of everyone, he started to gather up the papers. He was doing it very slowly, but he was doing it nonetheless.

Hobbes and Socrates backed off, giving him some room.

At last, with all the papers in order and ready for business, Calvin headed for the door. He took one last look at his friends. "If this is my only way out of her classroom forever, so be it."

And then, he was gone.

Hobbes and Socrates shook each other's paws in satisfaction.

"Well, now that _that's _settled," MTM said, "I can finally give you this call."

"What call?" Hobbes asked.

"It's coming from Yellowstone. I put Jack on hold so he wouldn't distract Calvin."

"Jack's calling? Put him through."

MTM's lid popped open and the speaker grille that worked as a phone opened up.

Jack's voice emanated from within. "Hello? Calvin? Anyone? Ground Control?"

"Hi, Jack," Hobbes replied calmly. "What's going on? Frank set his hair on fire again?"

"Worse. He's on a date."

Hobbes and Socrates were brought up short. Of all the possible responses they could've gotten, that one was pretty far down on the list.

* * *

><p>The restaurant was simplistic, but Dr Brainstorm was determined to get everything right. He had his nanobots create a nice car for them to drive in, and they made their way into town to take in the sights. He'd been slightly embarrassed to find that he really didn't know that much about the towns surrounding Yellowstone and he didn't know much about the restaurant scene either. He'd fumbled about on the internet, searching for something decent.<p>

He'd tried asking Jack for help, but the robot was vehemently uninterested in assisting him in rekindling his old love life with Veronica. He knew his friend was only trying to keep him from making some huge mistake, but maybe the huge mistake was letting her walk in and out of his life again. Maybe it was time for him to start focusing more on his personal life. He didn't like to admit it, but he was still a human being with basic wants and desires, and one of those was female companionship.

The chair was uncomfortable as well. It was hard with no cushion. He wished at the moment that he wasn't so bony. He forced a pleasant smile to Veronica across the table, who smiled back, apparently unconcerned by the problem. He fought for something interesting to say.

"So!" he said suddenly, making her jump. "The… weather… certainly is… weather… isn't it?"

She blinked. "Er… yes. Yes, it is. Weather."

And that was all the small talk he could think of. They sat in silence for another minute.

Finally, the food was delivered and set down in front of them. Dr Brainstorm managed to smile courteously to the waiter and began to cut into his chicken with a fork and knife while she toyed at her salad.

"So…," she said quietly. "What are you going to do with the world when you finally take it over? Still got the same old plans?"

He looked up, taking a brief bite of his food. "Well, I gave it a lot of thought… and I decided to forgo the whole idea where everyone has to dress like Gutenberg for a day."

She smiled. "Is that right? Why'd you decide that?"

"Have you seen the pictures of him? The ones with the giant beard? I realized how impractical they would be on the days I make everyone roller disco. They'd get tangled up in the wheels."

* * *

><p>Socrates stepped forward, looking deep into the MTM's speaker in lieu of Jack's eyes. "Let me get this straight. Dr <em>Franklin <em>Brainstorm is on a date? Right now? An actual date-date?"

"Yes, he is. You've got to help me."

"Why?" Hobbes asked. "What's the big deal? He's finally doing something other than try to take over the world."

"Who's he even on a date _with_?" Socrates demanded.

"His ex, Veronica."

"Ex?! He has a prior?! Frank _had _a girlfriend?!"

"And he's out with her right now! She just waltzed into the lab and took over his brain!"

"Literally or figuratively?" Hobbes asked.

* * *

><p>"Remember the time we went bowling, and your thumb got caught in the ball?" Veronica asked fondly.<p>

"And I went sliding across the well-waxed floor into the pins? Of course I remember! It was a strike!"

"It shouldn't have counted."

"It's all done by computers, Veronica! The computer counted it!"

"The computer couldn't tell the difference."

"You're just jealous because I won."

She crossed her arms and playfully slouched in the chair. "Am not," she mock-sneered.

They both started laughing, reveling in the easy atmosphere developing between them.

* * *

><p>"What prompted her visit?" Socrates asked.<p>

"Claimed she was in the area."

"How'd she find out where you are if you were trying to keep it a secret?" Hobbes added.

"I'm not sure. She could've gotten the information from anywhere. Might've been his Instagram account."

"Nah, his address isn't on there," Socrates said dismissively. "He mostly just talks about old cars, anyway."

"So what do you want us to do about it?" Hobbes asked. "If it works out, it works out. If anything, it'll get him out of our hair for a while."

"You don't understand," Jack replied irritably. "Veronica wasn't exactly the best girlfriend in the world when Frank and I knew her."

"What was she like?"

"She was always trying to manipulate his plans to take over the world to suit her. We once tried to do it by controlling the world's supply of perfume. Turns out she had gotten him to do it so she could get a discount."

"Well, that's not the worst thing in the world…"

"It's the way she did it that bugged me. As soon as she had the perfume, she completely shifted gears. She went from supporting him to telling him he'd made a mistake with this plan and told him to stop before he embarrassed himself. She always did that – told him one thing so she'd get something, and once she had it, she'd change her mind. She knew how to play him like a fiddle."

"I still don't see why we need to get involved," Socrates said with a shrug. "Just tell him the problem and do something about it."

"It's not going to work," Jack sighed. "I've tried it time and time again, and he never listens. He just gets sucked into Vortex Veronica. I need your help to stop him before he gets himself into even bigger trouble. Where's Calvin?"

Hobbes and Socrates looked at each other apprehensively. "Er… Calvin's busy with school stuff right now," Hobbes said quickly. "Just tell us what you need so we can deal with this and be home for dinner on time."

"I need you to stop Veronica before we get a repeat of the last business we went through with her."

"What happened?" Socrates asked.

"Frank almost destroyed the planet."

"… How?"

"She almost talked him into it."

* * *

><p>"So, Frank… that machine of yours – will it control any food you tell it to?"<p>

Dr Brainstorm shrugged. "Within reason, I suppose."

"Such as…?"

"Well, it could tell crops when to grow, it could tell a wheat field to stop growing…"

"What about meat?"

"It could potentially make a cow tap dance, but that's a whole different area. It controls naturally grown foods. If you want to control meat, you're looking at things like bovine brain control."

"So when are you going to get started on that?"

"… Huh?"

"Aren't you going to try and control the meat section?"

"Er… well, I… suppose? I mean, it hadn't really occurred to me."

"And it wouldn't just be cows!" she continued, apparently very enthusiastic. "What about chickens and turkeys and pigs?"

"Oh my…"

* * *

><p>"Why would she try to talk him into trying to destroy the world? She lives on it," Socrates felt compelled to point out.<p>

"It wasn't really her intention, but it wouldn't have happened without her. Once he realized how badly he'd been manipulated, Frank reversed everything he'd done and ended things with her."

"_He _broke up with _her_?" Hobbes asked in surprise.

"Well, we haven't actually _seen _her yet," Socrates reasoned. "Maybe it's not that shocking."

"Nah, she's pretty attractive," Jack sighed.

"So what did she do?"

"She seemed eager to make Frank go bigger. No matter what he did, she always insisted that his plans got bigger and more ridiculous."

"Frank to the max," Socrates mused. "Not a pretty mental picture. Can't imagine the reality."

"We need to cut it off at the pass. If Frank gets suckered into this relationship, who knows what she'll talk him into doing."

"You think he'll fall for it again?"

"He can't help himself. He so rarely hears praise for his work he clings to anyone who does."

"Maybe _you _should be praising him more," Hobbes suggested.

"When he does something praiseworthy, I'll get around to it."

"So once she's appealed to his ego, she starts upping the ante?" Socrates asked.

"That's the standard pattern."

* * *

><p>"And once you have control over every cow, pig and chicken on the planet, you will have control over the world's farms!" Veronica was saying with great enthusiasm. "You'd be able to build your own little farmyard army!"<p>

Dr Brainstorm nodded thoughtfully. "Well… I suppose that's a thought… The power of a readymade stampede _would _have its advantages."

"You could do it, Frank. You just need to make something that will control the minds of every animal on the planet!"

"Hmmmm… That'd be tricky. Controlling human minds is one thing. Controlling lesser species would require a lot of research on the subject. If I started tomorrow, I might be able to get it going in a few months…"

Veronica looked a little disappointed. "A few months?" she asked, leaning back in her chair and pouting very noticeably.

"What's wrong with a few months?"

"I just thought you'd want to try and get it done sooner."

"I can't control how fast I learn something. I want to make sure I get it right."

"Can't you think of a way to transfer the knowledge into your head automatically? Isn't that what mad scientists do? Look for shortcuts?"

"Er… I'm not sure how I would go about doing that…"

"There must be _something_. You're brilliant enough to build a crop controller. Surely you could build something to upload the knowledge of controlling cattle!"

Dr Brainstorm sat in his chair, thinking desperately for something to do. "Well… I guess I could think about it. If I can just figure out a way to do open the neural pathways…"

She positively beamed. "I'm sure you can do it!"

He got a warm feeling deep inside at her adulation. "Thanks, Veronica…" He looked down at the piece of beef on the end of his fork thoughtfully. Maybe it could work. Just maybe…

* * *

><p>Sherman didn't look up from his work as he listened to the quiet footsteps come down the spiral staircase behind him. He continued to file papers and go about his business, knowing his visitor would speak in his own time.<p>

Calvin set the papers down on the desk closest to the exit. He looked across the room at the tiny hamster working on the opposite side of the lab. The distance between them was about twenty feet, but it felt about three miles long. It wasn't often the boy felt the need to admit to his wrongdoings, but he knew he had to if he wanted to accomplish his goal. Swallowing his pride, he said the words he only said if he didn't actually mean them.

"I'm sorry."

Sherman stopped working, but he didn't turn around.

Relieved he wasn't being ignored, Calvin continued. "I'm sorry did what I did earlier. I was out of line. I came to you for help and scorned it when you tried. I don't know why I do this. I guess I just resent having to learn things that I don't care about, but it would appear that my only hope of getting away from such things is to… do that."

Sherman just sat there, not saying a word.

Deciding that meant he hadn't said the right thing, Calvin kept going. "And… I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you. I came to you for help, and I shouldn't have taken that sort of attitude with you."

The hamster still didn't seem to be reacting. He just sat there, staring straight ahead.

Calvin racked his brain, trying to figure out what would be the magic word to make Sherman respond. It took him five seconds, but he found something in the back of his mind that might work.

"You're my friend, and I need you."

He was surprised to realize his words were genuine.

At last, Sherman turned around, looking Calvin in the eye. "Very well then," he said with a voice full of authority. "Pull out an assignment, and let's begin."

Calvin blinked in surprise, but he did as he was told. He knew this was simply how Sherman was accepting his apology. The hamster wasn't known for being all that much in touch with his emotions and didn't handle mushy stuff very well, and so he was willing skip over it and cut straight to business.

He laid out a sheet of paper in front of Sherman, and they proceeded to go over it.

"Let's see…," he murmured. "How about this one to start with – a one hundred word report on the moon landing?"

Calvin looked at the paper. "Oh… I thought that said one hundred _page _essay."

"That'd be a bit difficult for anyone. Even me."

"Well, it still sounds really hard."

"Not necessarily. It only says to write about the moon landing. You just need to build a basic essay structure of five paragraphs, with twenty words per paragraph… Wait, that doesn't sound right… What grade are you in again?"

"First."

"Oh… Why are you writing an essay in first grade? You should be focused more on building a vocabulary and basic sentence structure."

"It's just what she assigns us. One day, I'm just going to invent a machine that steals knowledge from other people's minds."

"You wouldn't know where to begin," Sherman said without looking up from the assignments.

"And you would?"

"Oh, sure! Altering another's brain is easy! Remember the time I managed to alter Hobbes and Socrates' speech patterns so they'd talk like ducks? And the transfer of knowledge from one head to another is simple."

"Have you ever done it to yourself?"

"No, I prefer the old-fashioned way of gathering knowledge."

"What's that?"

Sherman sighed heavily. "_Reading_…," he said slowly, as if talking to an imbecile.

Calvin rolled his eyes disparagingly. "Oh, right, I forgot – you're a _nerd_. You and Susie would probably get along famously."

"No doubt. Shall we proceed with the moon landing?"

* * *

><p>"So," Hobbes was explaining. "Until Calvin's finished with his homework, he can't help you. Sorry, Jack."<p>

"Fine," the robot's voice replied through the MTM. "Any chance you guys could help me out without him?"

"Well, what is there to do? They're probably halfway through the date by now, and even if we can get there in time, what could we do? Put a fly in their soup?"

"I just need something to happen that will drive them apart. I don't need her moving in here one day."

"Yeah, she'll probably screw up your bachelor pad with her nylons and constant phone calls and stuff," Socrates said.

"… Is that sarcasm? I can never tell with you," Jack replied.

"I don't know how to help you, Jack," Hobbes said, deciding there wasn't much else to talk about. "You're going to have to accept that Frank's got a babe in his life. Unless he's about to blow up the world with something ultra-ridiculous like an atomic-powered hair dryer, we can't help you."

Jack sighed. "Fine. I'll let you know if it comes to that. Thanks for listening. Bye."

He hung up, and the MTM's lid closed.

"… Atomic-powered hair dryer?" Socrates asked, looking at Hobbes strangely.

"It's the sort of thing he'd use, wouldn't it?"

* * *

><p>It was midnight by the time the light on the console lit up, signifying the lift was coming down with a passenger, and to Jack's relief, it was a singular life form of male gender. He leaned back in his office chair and locked his line of vision with the doors. He had spent the last few hours fretting, something he was not all that accustomed to doing. Fretting was more than he ever really wanted to do with his life. It reduced his life expectancy considerably, or at least, that's what he told himself.<p>

Feeling not unlike a concerned parent on prom night, Jack repositioned himself to look less anxious. He focused on a corner in the far side of the room. He only ten seconds before that crummy elevator finally reached the doors, and he had to look like he didn't care a dime over the fact that his creator was throwing in with a woman who for all intents and purposes was a trollop.

As soon as he realized how stupid he looked staring at a corner, the ten seconds were up, and the doors slid open, and out stumbled Dr Brainstorm. He was singing off key and staggering around into the lab.

Jack's heart sank. "What in the name of Norman Rockwell have you done now?" he asked, still looking at the corner.

"Jack, m'boy, how are ya?" Dr Brainstorm slurred, staggering over to him. He grabbed the robot by the metal shoulders and shook him like a frat boy.

"Did you break in your first debauch?" Jack asked as he was jerked back and forth.

"Ahhhh, makin' up words again t'make me feel shmallll, huh, Jack? Ha! You kill me…" And he slapped Jack on the back, hurting his hand in the process.

"So what happened while you were on your date?"

"Ohh, I tell ya… Jack, I tell ya. It's gonna work this time. I'm telling ya, it's gonna work this time. Veronica and I have reached an understanding. We know where we went wrong, and we're going to try it again."

Jack massaged his metallic temples. "Great…," he moaned.

"And she's totally behind the whole controlling food idea. She even gave me ideas for how to improve it! We can control the world's supply of _livestock _as well as crops! It's brilliant! She's brilliant! _We're _brilliant!"

Jack stared at him. "She really suggested that?"

"Oh, yeah! And after that, I knew there was only one thing to do! I had to make her mine!"

"… And what does that mean?"

"We got married."

Jack's entire body locked up as the sentence entered his audio receivers. It took a few moments to get going again, and before he knew what was happening, he was automatically rebooting to deal with the shock. He managed to get himself up and running again.

"You did _what_?" he asked after his lengthy pause.

"We went down to the courthouse, filled out the forms, exchanged gumball machine rings, used the janitor as a witness and bam! We're married!"

Jack stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing. "How…? How did you…? Why did…? How…? You… _WHAT?!_"

Dr Brainstorm merely smiled in response.

It was in that moment that Jack realized that his creator was no longer slurring his speech or stumbling. In fact, he looked calm and collected, and he didn't even lean against the chair for support. He looked wholly and entirely sober.

Then he noticed that there were no rings on any of his fingers.

And Dr Brainstorm was struggling not to laugh.

"… You're just… _kidding_, aren't you?" he said flatly.

"About the marriage part, yes. I just wanted to see the look on your face."

Jack slumped over back into the chair with immense relief. "And the livestock thing?"

"Totally happening. I just need to figure out how to do that."

"Okay, I think that's a little easier for me to handle."

Laughing to himself, Dr Brainstorm headed for his room to go to bed, leaving his robot to remain slumped in his chair.


	4. Knowledge is Power

It was bright and early on a Tuesday morning as Susie walked chirpily out towards the bus stop, full of glee at the thought of going to learn and take notes at school. She was there by herself for a few minutes as per usual, so she took out a novel she'd been reading and picked up where she left off. She loved books. In fact, there were times she loved books more than people. There was never a chance of a book teasing her or mocking her or throwing a water balloon at her when she wasn't looking.

This bliss proved to be short-lived, however, as Calvin came stumbling out of his house, mostly due to his mother giving him an enthusiastic shove out the door. She sighed sadly. Calvin had a habit of ruining pretty much anything, be it waiting for the bus or trying to take a test or going for a walk, even when he wasn't invited. Any attempts at playing 'Pretend' were pointless, as Calvin would more often than not reject all the ideas she forced on him and storm off in frustration. He could be so unreasonable sometimes.

The boy grumbled his way up to the bus stop, not even greeting her. They both did their almighty best to ignore each other. Sadly, Susie was not the sort of person who could go more than five minutes minding her own business. She was a social leper who was determined to needle her way into other people's business.

"How's all that extra homework coming along, Calvin?" she asked, not making eye contact.

"What business is it of yours how I'm doing?" he replied testily.

"I was just asking!"

"Why?"

Susie growled internally. "… I don't know! Just curious!"

"Well, why were you curious about something that has nothing to do with you?"

"Fine! _Don't _tell me! See if I care!"

And they turned away from each other, one furious and the other smirking at her being furious.

The bus finally arrived, and it came to a halt in front of them. The door hissed open, and the stairwell practically beckoned them in.

"For your information, _Derkins_," Calvin sneered, "I'm doing _very _well with my extra assignments."

"Oh _really_?" she sneered right back at him.

"_Really_! I have completed several of them already!"

"Oh, yeah? Which ones?"

They took a seat near the middle of the bus, and it went into motion as Calvin fished through his backpack. He pulled out a sheet of paper and held it up for Susie to see.

"Read it and weep!" he said proudly. "A one hundred word essay on the moon landing! Bam!"

Susie looked at Calvin's childish scrawl on the paper, and she could tell it was very well written. "Wow…," she said, taking it and skimming over the words. "You really were thorough…"

"Darn right!"

"Did you actually research it, or did you just copy something online?"

"What's the difference?"

"The former would involve you actually _learning _something."

"Oh. I researched it."

"Then you actually retained some of the knowledge you researched?"

"Sure did!"

"Prove it."

"How?"

She held the paper to her chest so he couldn't see it. "What was the name of the ship they flew to the moon?"

"The Apollo 11!"

"What was the name of the first man on the moon?"

"Neil Armstrong!"

"When did he die?"

"Two years ago!"

"Who else visited the moon?"

"Buzz Aldrin!"

"And what currently exists on the moon that man put there?"

"A flag and some reflectors!"

"What's your last name?"

"Susie, come on!"

At last relenting, Susie handed back the paper. "Wow, you actually did a good job on this."

"No need to sound so surprised."

"How'd you do it?"

"I had some help researching it from my new tutor. He made it more interesting than Miss Wormwood ever did."

"You got a tutor? Where?"

"Oh, he's been a personal friend for years. I went to him for help with this and he agreed."

"Who is it?"

"Sherman."

"Who's Sherman?"

"Andy's pet hamster."

Susie blinked. "A hamster helped you with your homework?" she asked.

"Yep. He taught me all about the moon landing. I never knew so much about the vacuum of space before! Did you know that if you get sucked out of an airlock, you don't actually freeze? The temperature is in such a way your blood would actually boil!"

Susie shook her head. "I should've guessed the only way you'd learn anything was if you thought it was gross."

"Hey, if making learning a game works for you, I can make it disgusting to work for _me_, okay?"

"Whatever."

They continued the remainder of the bus ride in silence, and they arrived at school within twenty minutes. They disembarked with the rest of the kids and made their way through the halls to their classroom. Susie split off from him to find her desk while Calvin went to Miss Wormwood's desk with a handful of papers.

"Do you have any assignments for me today, Calvin?" she asked, peering down at him from behind her desk.

"I do indeed, Miss Wormwood," he replied, handing in the papers. "History has been covered _very _thoroughly, if I may say so."

She took the assignments and went through them, skimming over the scrawl suspiciously. Everything looked incredibly complete, but she couldn't be certain whether or not Calvin actually did what he was supposed to.

"You finished all of these last night?"

"Well, I had some help, but I did do the work."

"I see…" She glanced at a random sentence in the essay and held the paper to her chest. "What was the name of the space shuttle?"

Calvin massaged his temples in frustration.

* * *

><p>Jack massaged his temples. It was a fruitless gesture, but it eased his nerves ever so slightly.<p>

Veronica was visiting. She and Dr Brainstorm were at work on the machine again. They were plotting out how they would find someone with the knowledge to control the minds of animals. Progress was slow – not because it was a difficult task, but because of all the annoying PDA they were involved in.

It was nothing particularly graphic, but their hands kept brushing up against each other, they worked closely with each other, she sat in his lap working on one computer while he focused on another…

Their relationship was restarting, and it wasn't easy for Jack to remember the fact that, as a robot, he had no gag reflex.

He glanced up from his newspaper at the sight of them. It was a rare moment where they were on opposite sides of the lab.

"Veronica?" Dr Brainstorm called out. "I need to fix this modem."

"I'll get your tweezers," she replied, pulling a pair out of the drawer.

Jack grumbled to himself. He knew that Veronica wasn't the sort who would just go and get tools just because a man told her to. Nor was Dr Brainstorm the sort of guy who would boss her around simply because she was a woman. It was just that she had been close to the drawer with the tweezers in it, and she had accepted that. It wasn't the underlying sexism that bothered him.

It was the fact that it used to be _his _job to get the mad idiot's tools for him.

Jack usually reveled in a chance for some time off. In normal circumstances, he'd be either watching TV or reading a magazine, sipping a drink and enjoying the lack of shouting. However, it was difficult to enjoy himself when he knew _she _was in the room. She was so accommodating lately that he couldn't switch off his suspicions. He technically could do that manually with the flick of one of his switches, but he was worried doing so would make him less vigilant and fall prey to whatever she had planned.

He glanced again at them. She was leaning against his chair with her chin in his wild red hair, watching him type away furiously at his computer. She was murmuring something about how cute it was to see him so determined, causing him to miss a key at one point and have to start again.

No wonder a simple search of all the world's knowledge was taking so long. They were drowning in each other's hormones.

Jack returned to his newspaper determinedly, trying to convince himself he wasn't bothered by the whole thing. He took a moment to look at his watch. It was coming up on six o'clock, and it was his turn to cook dinner tonight. He might as well start planning something. He typically made something simple like pasta or chicken.

Getting up, he put the paper away and headed for the kitchen. He heard Veronica giggle at something Dr Brainstorm had said, and it brought him up short. He turned in their direction and placed himself next to the desk so they'd have no choice but to notice him.

"Are you allergic to anything, Veronica?" he asked pleasantly.

They both looked at him in surprise.

"… I'm sorry?" she asked.

"I'm making dinner," the robot clarified. "You're not allergic to any foods, are you?"

She relaxed immediately. "Oh! No, no, I'm not! Thank you, Jack, but that won't be necessary."

"Oh? And why not? Are _you_ cooking?"

"We're going out tonight, Jack," Dr Brainstorm said, returning to his work.

"Again? You went out last night."

"It's just for fun, Jack," Veronica replied.

Jack glared at her. "Fine," he said tightly. "Go out again. Have fun."

She simply smiled at him and resumed resting her chin on Dr Brainstorm's head.

Jack struggled to think of a witty one-liner to exit on, but he couldn't think of anything that didn't sound straight-out petty. He turned and walked away, heading for the kitchen. It looked like it was just him and a pan of ramen noodles tonight. Not that he needed to eat, but he decided it was better than nothing.

* * *

><p>Calvin fidgeted in the chair slightly as he looked up at Sherman curiously. The hamster had placed himself atop a large podium, and he was showing slides on a projector with paintings of events from World War I, droning on like any decent narrator.<p>

"The causes of the war are varied and complex," he said, showing maps of the countries involved. "The most well-known event was the assassination of Archduke Francis Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary by a Serbian nationalist in 1914."

Calvin looked up from his notes. "Did you get that straight from the internet?"

"Hush, boy. I'm educating you."

"Sorry. Keep going."

Sherman put up the next slide. "Throughout the late nineteenth century, rivalries between many European nations were building, particularly with Germany, France, Great Britain, Russia and Austria-Hungary. Nationalism was growing freakishly as well. Austria-Hungary especially was growing in an overwhelming sense of patriotic pride. Similarly, France and Germany were at each other's throats about whose country was better."

"You can got to war over that?" Calvin asked.

"Logically, no. But there's very little that can be considered 'logical' about World War I. Or _any _war, come to think of it."

"So why'd they go to war over that?"

"Well, there's also the matter of imperialism…"

"What's that?"

"It's when one country decides it wants to extend its power, usually through diplomacy or military measures."

"Oh… And all of those things combined…?"

"War," Sherman replied shortly, switching to a slide of a battlefield. "To their eternal credit, they managed to avoid war for a long time, and they were fairly optimistic that things could be resolved peacefully. Of course, when a politician or a general gets particularly uppity or feels offended, there's no telling what will happen…"

"Wow… Miss Wormwood made it sound so _boring_! How do you do it?"

Sherman chuckled. "We all have our own teaching styles."

"Yeah, but you make it sound interesting! She just drones on and on from the textbook!"

"I suppose it's just her way of doing things. It's another reason why you should be eager to move on to second grade. Sometimes a new teacher can make all the difference."

"I hope so. So what happens next?"

"What happens in next is four years of blood-filled turmoil, brought to you by the overzealousness of politicians and generals with egos and teeth bared to the world."

"Cool! You should go into advertising!"

"Meh, the hours were too long…"

* * *

><p>Hobbes and Socrates sat listlessly on the sidewalk, watching the world go by. They were feeling a little lost without anything to do. There were no villains to stop and no small boys to annoy, so they were without purpose at the moment.<p>

"Do you think chasing birds and rabbits would tide us over for very long?" Hobbes asked.

"I've never been crazy about devouring wildlife," Socrates replied. "Couldn't we just go for a cheeseburger?"

Hobbes shook his head. "This is the lousiest part of the day. Calvin's studying with Sherman, Andy's in class and the bad guys are quiet. There's gotta be _something _for us to do."

"Such as?"

"I don't know… I wish we lived in a neighborhood with more wild animals to maim."

"Boredom is bringing out a side of you that disturbs me."

Imagine their surprise when, at that moment, there was a flash of light, and the MTM appeared next to them. "Another phone call from Jack," the CD player droned.

"You really should start screening these calls," Hobbes sighed, reaching over and popping the MTM's lid. "What now, Jack?"

"They're going out to dinner tonight!"

"Oh, the horror."

"They went out last night! I think she's trying to keep him away from me!"

"Jack, unless you're jealous to the point of murdering her in her sleep, I don't see why you need to involve us yet," Socrates said patiently.

"I'm not _jealous_. I'm overtly concerned. There's a difference."

"What are you so concerned about? So she takes him out and strokes his ego a bit. Big whoop."

MTM spoke up. "Well, that in and of itself could be a problem."

"How do you mean?" Hobbes asked.

"She's building him up and keeping him away from Jack, who keeps his ego in check. If Frank starts getting it in his head that he can do anything he puts his mind to, he's likely to do anything he puts his mind to."

"You mean… all Frank needs to take over the world is a bit of confidence and a hot babe?" Socrates asked.

"It probably wouldn't hurt."

"Just what I was afraid of. Can we do something about her now?" Jack pleaded.

"Jack, relax. As soon as he starts doing something that isn't child-friendly, we'll bring in the big guns," Hobbes assured him.

"Ironic, since the person who usually stops Frank _is _a child," Socrates murmured.

"Look, his latest plan is to try and take over the world by controlling the minds of every single living livestock on the planet. He's just trying to figure out where to take the knowledge from."

"Good luck with that," MTM muttered.

"So what's he doing?"

"He's got a mind scanner for every single mind on the planet, trying to find the knowledge. It's taking a long time to scan, though."

"It's got at least seven billion human minds to scan," Hobbes murmured. "I can't imagine it'll be over in a day."

"Oh, he's set it to _every _mind."

"Including the very livestock he means to control? That's ironic."

"He's going to leave it running all night. He expects me to check on it once an hour for him until it goes off."

"So we've probably got a few days before this goes anywhere," Socrates said, leaning back in the grass. "Keep us posted on any further developments."

"Fine," Jack sighed. "But if they're not back by curfew, I'm calling again."

With that, the line was cut, and Hobbes closed the MTM's lid.

"Man, he's got it rough," he said.

Socrates shrugged. "On the upside, he'd make a very good parent someday."

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

MTM suddenly spoke up. "I can close my own lid, you know."

* * *

><p>The night lasted way too long for Jack. He was constantly glancing at the clock. He didn't even bother with the computer. He knew it would come up empty. That was the trouble with Dr Brainstorm's plans. They never actually went anywhere. He would just go with a plan until it ran out of steam, and then he'd move on to the next one. It was a vicious cycle that Jack had settled into.<p>

And now Veronica had come and spoiled everything. She was always around, making him smile and annoying the robot to heck with her niceness. It wasn't a pleasant business to be involved in.

He wasn't certain whether it was just Veronica herself or if it was just the idea of Dr Brainstorm being with a woman at all. He'd never actually seen his creator in the dating scene, so he wasn't sure how he would react if he ever met someone else. Of course, being the man that he was, the mad scientist was hardly likely to attract someone who would be loosely described as "normal". Maybe he was concerned that Veronica was the best he would do.

Jack glanced at the clock again. It was ten-thirty. Only half an hour to go until curfew.

Dr Brainstorm had laughed off the idea of a curfew, but Jack convinced him that it was necessary to focus his mind on the plan in case he missed something. Whether or not he would adhere to it was another matter. He was still in the 'honeymoon stage' of the relationship – impossibly happy, unable to imagine a world without her, no arguments, no squabbles, no negativity whatsoever. It was enough to make even the most dedicated greeting card copyrighter sick to his stomach.

The minutes ticked by, steadily heading in the direction of 11:00 PM. Jack tried to look relaxed, but it wasn't working. His leg was jiggling involuntarily. That was wrong. A robot's leg isn't supposed to jiggle involuntarily unless it's malfunctioning, most likely due to a ruptured circuit breaker. That's what he was telling himself. Of course, there was every possibility that there was no such thing as a ruptured circuit breaker and he was simply nervous.

Then, to his immense relief, he heard the sound of the elevator. There was a life form coming down – male and singular.

Jack kicked back and waited in his chair for it to finish coming down. He still couldn't get the leg to stop, so he tried casually crossing them. He leaned back and looked as nonchalant as he could.

The doors opened with a hiss, and in walked Dr Brainstorm, dressed in a black sport coat, dark blue sweater and slacks. She'd picked the clothes out for him. He sashayed out with a big grin on his face and headed over towards the main computer. He looked happier than he had last night.

He was so busy typing away at the computer that he didn't seem to register the fact that Jack was now getting up and walking over to him. "Have a good date?"

"Ohhhh, the best," Dr Brainstorm replied blissfully, still typing away.

He didn't continue voluntarily, so Jack verbally prodded him some more. "… What'd you talk about?"

"Oh, just this and that…," he replied, never looking up. "Did you know she once lived in Manhattan for three years with her friends working in a bagel shop?"

"… I can honestly say that never occurred to me."

"We had the best time, Jack. The absolute best."

"So you didn't talk about anything else? Just old stories?"

"Yep!"

"Okay… Okay, good. Glad you had a good time." And with that, the robot relaxed and walked away. As long as they were just acting like an ordinary couple, they weren't going to do something stupid that would potentially destroy the world.

He was just walking back to his chair when he heard, "Oh, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you check the computer like I asked you to?"

Jack froze in mid-step. "Oh. Uh…"

"I gave you an instruction! Why didn't you follow through?"

"Well, I didn't think it was all that important…"

"Not all that important? Is that what you're saying to me? _Not all that important?_"

"Yeah, that's the long and short of it, Frank…"

"We are talking about the future of my world domination, Jack! You think that's 'not important'?!"

"Er…"

"Is that what you think, Jack? Everything we've been through? All that we've achieved? You really think that's 'not important'?"

"I didn't say _that_…"

"You just don't care about _anything_, do you, Jack? You only care about whether or not I've restocked the soda pop again! You only care about if the cable bill's been paid!"

Jack felt himself get a bit riled up. "Now hang on a minute…!"

"You only care about squashing my enthusiasm! You only care about making sure my ego's smaller than a gant's pet hamster! You don't care about me at all!"

Jack stared at him for a long throbbing moment as he collected his thoughts. "… Is that what she _told_ you to think?" he asked.

Dr Brainstorm blinked. "What?"

"I get the feeling when you two are alone you talk about me once in a while."

"You've… come up once or twice…"

"So she's telling you that I don't care about you?"

"No! She's just… well…"

"What?"

"She said things like, 'Oh, Jack – he really only lives for soda and cable' and 'Jack's really only out for himself' and stuff…"

Jack folded his arms as he glared at Dr Brainstorm.

"Now wait a minute!" the mad scientist snapped. "Don't go getting all 'grown up' with me, young man! _I'm _the one who's mad at you for not checking the computer!"

He turned to point at the computer, but then he saw something had changed. There was a blinking red light on the console. He stared at it for a very long time. Jack had to lean over to the left to see past him.

"Wait… did it find something?" he asked.

"It has…," Dr Brainstorm murmured. "It _has_!" He bounded over and immediately started typing away on the keyboard, hammering out commands as his eyes flitted left and right across the screen. "It's found someone who can control the minds of animals! I've got them! Finally, my plan can come to fruition!"

"Who the heck is it?" Jack demanded, bewildered that the computer had actually succeeded.

Dr Brainstorm hit the 'return' button and brought up the image of his new source of knowledge.

A familiar-looking hamster appeared onscreen.

_SHERMAN J HAMSTER_

"Sherman…?" Jack asked, squinting at the image.

"The hamster…," Dr Brainstorm breathed, momentarily in awe before his giggles began to spill over. "Ohhhhh… this makes it _so _much easier! We shall apprehend this rodent and use him to _take over the world_!"

Cackling triumphantly, he descended into his usual brand of deranged giggles all the way to his bedroom.

Jack stared at the screen and read the name again. Something occurred to him. "What does the 'J' stand for…?"


	5. Abduction

**Author's Note: **_Apologies for the lack of update last week. I was severely ill with the stomach flu, which is decidedly not fun. I was unable to do much of anything during that time, so I gave myself a week to recover. Managed to get this done, so here it is, better late than never.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Miss Wormwood went through the papers on her desk thoughtfully. The content was incredibly interesting. It wasn't so much that a first grade assignment could be described as interesting, but it was the fact that it was written by Calvin that was intriguing. After dealing with his originally ridiculously poor writing assignments, she had all but given up on him. Sure, he provided decent conversation fodder in the teacher's lounge, but she didn't like that she had a student doing so poorly in her class.<p>

She reflected on some of her other students. Most did fairly well. There were some like Susie Derkins who absolutely jumped at the chance to do exceedingly well. Others were not doing so well, and that frustrated her, but not nearly as badly as Calvin. She couldn't understand children who didn't value their education. She'd always understood the importance of learning growing up, and the idea that anyone would find such a situation tedious confounded her sometimes.

The bell rang, jerking her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the children filing in after recess. She put the papers away for later. Calvin was the last one in, as usual. While she recognized the need for children to run around and expel energy sometimes, she didn't appreciate the way the boy dragged his feet whenever he came off the playground.

"Right then, class," she said, exuding her authority once again. "Time to begin our next lesson. Open your textbooks and we'll pick up where we left off."

Everyone complied with the task of getting out their math books. This was usually the part of the class where Calvin, still riled up from recess, would start complaining about the lack of interesting brain stimulation and demand some radical change to the lesson, such as learning about cannibalism or using expletives to build their vocabulary. She usually could ignore his requests and continue the lesson without acknowledging him, but sometimes she found the only way to shut him up was to put him in the corner with the dunce cap. She dreaded this moment.

But it never came. Calvin got out his book and opened to the correct page. He looked up, waiting for her to begin the review. She blinked, a little bit confused, but then she recovered her senses and resumed the lesson.

"Let's see… we were reviewing how to subtract double digit numbers… Who would like to try and solve some problems on the board?"

A few students raised their hands, some a bit more eagerly than others. One thing she noticed hadn't changed – Calvin was still not raising his hand. She had a policy for students who didn't raise their hand – they had to do the problems. She hoped that would convince them to learn about the material.

"Calvin? Why don't you come up?"

Calvin blinked. He couldn't help but be aware of all the kids snickering around him, knowing that he was going to fail spectacularly, thereby bolstering their tiny egos and feeling superior to him. He knew how their minds worked. Ignoring them to the best of his ability, he got up from his desk and made the long trek to the blackboard, taking the piece of chalk that Miss Wormwood handed him.

Wordlessly, Calvin started working. The equation was fifty-seven minus twenty-nine. His eyes flitted across the numbers as he recalled the lessons he'd had with Sherman. He remembered to borrow from the five when he subtracted the seven from nine. He remembered that you couldn't subtract something from something else and come out with more than what you started with. Everyone watched in silent wonder as he finished the equation in less than thirty seconds.

The number twenty-eight looked back at them all.

Calvin looked at Miss Wormwood expectantly. She seemed to be having difficulty focusing on the chalkboard. Finally, she remembered she was responsible for twenty-five other students and cleared her throat.

"Er… well done, Calvin. That's correct. You may sit down."

He nodded in response and headed for his desk, ignoring the other kids staring at him in silent wonder, their egos all severely deflated at knowing that they were no longer able to feel security in his stupidity.

* * *

><p>Back in Yellowstone, Dr Brainstorm was going over schematics of Andy and Sherman's house, plotting how he was going to break in and abduct the hamster. He was looking at it from several angles, trying to determine which would be the best possible way of going through with it.<p>

Jack observed from the back of the room. "Planning to break into an eight-year-old boy's house," he muttered. "Yeah, that's not weird at all."

"I'm planning to steal his pet hamster…" Dr Brainstorm grumbled back. "I'm focusing on how to get into the house. All these years focusing on Calvin's house, it never occurred to me to familiarize myself with the houses of his _friends_."

"You're seriously going to try and take Sherman's knowledge?"

"Why not? It makes sense. He's always talking about that university education of his…"

"You went to college, too, you know."

"Yeah, but he's got _graduate school_ and stuff under his tiny hamster belt. I've got to rely on a bachelor's degree on mad science. Stupid job market. At least _he _has options!"

Jack shrugged. "Well, if you're sure this is okay. I mean, even after everything we've been through, you're still going to steal a kid's pet hamster to take over the world."

"Don't go trying to guilt trip me, Jack! I need that knowledge to take over the world! If it comes from the mind of some kid's pet hamster, so be it!"

"Is that how you want it worded in your eventual autobiography, Frank?"

"_DR BRAINSTORM!_"

At that precise moment, Veronica walked into the room. She was wearing one of his lab coats and carrying two coffee mugs. "Honestly, Jack – can't you be a little supportive for once? He's finally onto a great plan for once, and all you can talk about is how stupid you think it is."

"And you _don't _think this is stupid?"

"Of course not! It's a brilliant plan! Steal the knowledge from someone else, thereby eliminating the legwork."

"So it's the lazy method?"

"You're so determined to pick on him," she sighed, handing Dr Brainstorm his coffee mug.

"Ever since day one," Dr Brainstorm mumbled, sipping his drink.

Jack rubbed his eyes. "Frank, come on…"

"Hey! It's _Doctor Brainstorm_!" Veronica snapped. "Start showing him a little respect!"

"Yeah!" Dr Brainstorm agreed.

Jack looked between them incredulously, and between their angry glares, he felt something deep inside of him finally snap. "Okay, that does it. If you guys are so perfect together, why don't you just get to work and leave me out of it, okay? I'm done. I'm out of here."

"What do you mean 'out of here'?"

"I mean, I'm _leaving_! You two can stay in your little love lab and put doilies on the easy chairs and potted plants on the console and 'his' and 'hers' towels in the steam room! I'm done! Finito! Exit – stage left even!"

Dr Brainstorm looked incredulous. "What, that's it? You're going to storm out? All those years of hard work down the drain? Who's going to assist me in my endeavors?"

Veronica patted his shoulder. "I'll assist you, Frank."

"But who's going to listen to my evil laugh?"

"I'll listen to you, Frank."

"Who's going to unclog the garbage incinerator when the toxic waste gets stuck?"

"I'll… _hire _someone to unclog it, Frank."

"Who's going to put out my hair when I set it on fire?"

Veronica looked at him for a long moment. "… Maybe you should start wearing a hat, Frank."

"You're going to go through a lot of hats," Jack muttered.

Dr Brainstorm rounded on him again. "Jack T Robot – you are not leaving this lab, and that is final!"

"And what happens if I do anyway?"

"Well…," the mad scientist murmured, struggling to think of a decent reply, "it'll… go… into my… report."

Jack rolled his eyes. "I'll start packing," he said derisively, turning and walking away to his room.

"Okay, _fine_! Leave! See if I care! Go and be a complete jerk! Here I am, finally complete and happy, and you're just whining about the fact that someone is finally sticking up for me! Can't get your cheap laughs in _now_, can you, sonny? Ha! Well, now you're in for it! Just watch me finally take over the world with Veronica by my side, and you'll be kicking yourself for ditching me right when I had the perfect plan!"

Jack came out of his room carrying a suitcase. "Bye, Frank. Veronica – good luck," he said as calmly as he could. He made his way towards the elevator doors.

"Fine! Go prance away to who-knows-where and live in a barn somewhere! See if I care! Go find the one hotel in the entire world outside of Japan that won't kick you out for being a Metallic American! I hope the traffic's really lousy, you jumped-up walking piece of scrap iron!"

Jack didn't even face him as he stepped into the elevator and let the door shut behind him.

Dr Brainstorm glared furiously at the shut doors and listened to the sound of the elevator climbing up towards the surface.

Veronica put her arms around him and hugged him from behind. "It's okay, Frank. He only ever held you back."

"Yeah…," Dr Brainstorm muttered, trying to calm down. "He did… He… Oh, never mind! It's time to implement the plan!" Wiping his eye as discreetly as he could, he turned and headed for the main control panel.

"You can get the hamster here?"

"I've tried looking over the house, but there don't seem to be any easy points of entry. I may have to blast down a wall…"

"Why don't you just teleport him here?"

"I'd need a copy of his DNA to lock onto. I haven't got any of that."

"Nothing lying around you could use? There must be _something_…"

"What, around here? Why would I have a sample of the hamster's DNA around my lab?"

"Nothing at all? A few dead cells? A lock of fur? Anything?"

Dr Brainstorm blinked. "Well, he's been a here a couple of times…," he murmured, thinking back. "Maybe…"

He hurried over to the computer console and proceeded to type away commands onto his computer. He activated a full-length scan of the entire lab, hoping that something would come up.

They watched as dull red lights swept over the complex, scanning every nook and cranny – looking for anything that might have been a part of Sherman at any point in time. Sadly, after ten long seconds of super-fast searching, nothing came up. Not a single paw print or stray hair could be found.

Folding his arms in frustration, Dr Brainstorm leaned against the console. "Drat…"

Veronica thought fast. "Is there anywhere the scanners might have missed?"

"Oh, please! It scanned every nook and cranny! If his DNA is anywhere here, it'd have to be hiding in…"

He trailed off, slowly beginning to realize a possible solution. He ran from the room and headed for a nearby closet. He exact second he pulled the door open, an avalanche of old broken down gadgets and gizmos flooded his ankles. He dug through the pile, searching for one thing in particular.

"What are you looking for?" asked Veronica.

"One thing in particular," he replied. "Let's see… I must've put them back in here. This is where I keep all the gadgets I get bored with."

"But which one do you need?"

"Hang on…"

Dr Brainstorm climbed deeper into the closet, digging through the pile of useless inventions until he finally found it in the very back – a long clear cylinder with a thick metal lid on top.

"Found it!"

He grabbed it and ran out of the closet, promptly tripping and falling in the heap of discarded gadgets in the process. The cylinder slipped from his hands and skidded across the floor before coming to a stop against the coffee table.

Veronica retrieved it while he righted himself. "What is it?" she asked. "Looks like an oversized container from the bank."

"Stasis tube!" Dr Brainstorm explained, as he got to his feet, only to trip and fall a second time, landing on his back. "Ow! It's creates a stasis field, which means it's capable of freezing the occupant inside!"

Veronica looked it over. "But… it's empty."

"True, but look at it," he exclaimed, pointing as he got up and walked two steps before tripping yet again, landing on his stomach. "Oof! The little light's still on!"

Indeed, there was a small green light at the top of the container. "So that means the stasis field is operating right now?"

"And has been since the last time I used it. I had a set of five originally, but that one – the smallest one – was used to house the hamster once upon a time!" And he fell down a fourth time, and finally tired of falling on hard unforgiving machinery, he proceeded to crawl on all fours towards the safety of the floor.

Veronica lit up. "Ah! So there's a chance there's still some of his DNA inside the stasis chamber!"

"Perfectly preserved after all this time!" Dr Brainstorm confirmed, crawling until he was safe again. He got back to his feet and took the chamber. "It's perfect! I'll bust out the gloves, the face mask and the tweezers in the operating room. Don't bother me until I'm done. Understood?"

"Of course, Frank."

"Excellent!"

And when he turned to leave, he tripped over an untied shoelace.

* * *

><p>Lesson time in the lab was still going on.<p>

"Okay…," Sherman murmured, going through some papers. "I went over your creative writing exercises. Nice work on that front, but that's hardly surprising…"

Calvin watched him expectantly from his desk.

"Let's see… History, history… Speaking of which, what did you think of the book about Lewis and Clark I gave you to read?"

"It wasn't bad," Calvin replied with a shrug. "I think it's crazy they had enough paper to draw over one hundred and forty maps…"

"You understand the significance of their expedition, though, yes?"

"Oh, sure – it helped all the white guys gain control over continent and wrest it away from all the Native Americans, essentially putting Lewis and Clark up there with Christopher Columbus as one of the biggest jerks in history."

Sherman shrugged. "Not _quite _as big as Columbus, but they certainly helped pave the way. Certainly a valid interpretation…"

"I never knew we were such jerks to the Native Americans. Regular text books make us sound like big heroes."

"Government-approved regular text books," Sherman replied swiftly. "Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I have one question about it, though…"

"The first half of the section about Sacagawea had some stuff crossed out in blue ink. Somehow, she acquired a baby boy after Lewis gave her some snake oil. What happened?"

Sherman cleared his throat. "Er… that's a section you'll learn about by fifth grade, I think," he said quickly. "Not my place to tell you. Moving on a step…"

Calvin sighed to himself as the hamster gathered some papers.

"Let's see… What's next on the agenda…? Ah yes! You have to do leaf worksheets! Well then it's time to talk about ecology."

"Miss Wormwood is apparently _obsessed _with leaves. She once made us collect fifty leaves and label them all scientifically in two weeks."

Sherman blinked. "Well, she certainly believes in the value of hard work."

"Yeah, no wonder she's so miserable all the time."

"Well, we'll start a bit simpler than that. We just need to figure out – "

But that was as far as Sherman got before he disappeared.

Calvin took a few moments to register what had happened. One moment, the hamster had been before him, speaking to him and everything, and the next, he had simply dissipated into nothing. There were no special effects or flashes of light. He just blipped out of existence.

After waiting a few seconds to see if it was just a joke or a mistake, he realized this may not have been intentional.

"Sherman?" he asked the air.

He walked over to the spot, looking closely at the top of the table the hamster had been walking on.

"Yo, Sherman?"

Growing concerned, Calvin started digging around the equipment scattered around the lab, trying to see if the little hamster was wedged somewhere uncomfortable in the room. He called his name, but he didn't answer. He wasn't anywhere within hearing distance.

As Calvin continued to search behind a computer monitor, the door to the lab opened, and Andy walked down carrying a plate with two sandwiches on it. He came into the room just as Calvin pushed aside a giant modem.

"Hey, Calvin. My mom made lunch. Do you wish to partake, or are you too busy for…?" Andy said, trailing off as he saw the mess his friend was making, plus the distinct lack of pet hamster. "Calvin, where's Sherman?"

"Good question," Calvin grunted, putting the modem back. "I lost him!"

"How'd you lose him? What were you doing?"

"We were just going over the next lesson plan when he plain old evaporated!"

"Evaporated?"

"He just vanished into thin air! I can't find him anywhere!"

"How could that have happened?"

"I don't know! The only logical conclusion I can come to is that someone took him! But why would someone take Sherman? What's he got that no one else… has…?" he asked, remembering slowly that he was in a super-advanced laboratory loaded with all sorts of technology and realizing he'd just answered his own question. "Oh. Right. He's wicked smart."

"Well, we've got to get him back," Andy said. "Come on!"

They left the lab, knowing full well where they were going.

* * *

><p>Sherman's eyelids felt a bit heavy. He had blacked out after disappearing, and now he wasn't sure where he was. He rolled over onto his back and looked up through his bleary vision. There was a fluorescent light shining above him, causing him to squint. His beady little eyes rotated around in his head, trying to focus on something that wouldn't blind him.<p>

He saw a figure standing nearby, and whoever they were, they appeared to be upside down. Then he remembered how he was positioned, so he rolled over and looked at them again. They were still blurred, so he blinked heavily and squinted again. They were coming into sharper focus now, and he began to make out that whoever it was, it was a woman.

Deciding it was time to figure things out he spoke to her in a groggy voice. "Where… am… I?"

The woman came closer, looking at him with what appeared to be fascination. "Wow…," she breathed. "You really _can _talk…"

"… Last time I checked. Now answer my question."

The woman smiled. Sherman noticed she was wearing lipstick.

"You're in my boyfriend's lab," she said in a hushed voice.

"Your boyfriend? Who's he?"

Bang on cue, a door opened – sliding into the wall with a dramatic hiss – and a figure walked through that Sherman recognized.

"Hello, rodent," Dr Brainstorm said with a sinister smile. "How've you been?"

Sherman's eyes widened as he noticed the red lipstick smudge on the mad scientist's mouth. "Oh good grief…"

* * *

><p>Calvin and Andy stood over the MTM in Calvin's room.<p>

"Oh, so you want to leave me out of all the fun until you need to track someone down," the CD player complained.

"MTM, please…," Calvin moaned.

"All right, I'll try and find him. Give me a second…"

As the CD player worked, Hobbes and Socrates came into the room, eating sandwiches. "Hey, what's new?"

"Sherman vanished into nothing, so MTM is scanning the entire universe so we can find him," Andy replied.

"Huh. Must be Thursday," Hobbes muttered, sitting down on the bed.

Calvin looked up and saw what the tigers were eating. "Hey, wait… Those are _our _sandwiches!"

"They were just sitting on a plate on the table," Socrates said defensively.

"I left them at _my_ place," Andy said, looking incredulous.

"I didn't say _which _table!"

MTM finally spoke up. "Found him."

Forgetting the sandwiches for now, Andy focused on the task at hand. "Oh, good! Where is he?"

"Yellowstone National Park."

Calvin blinked, and then he groaned. "Ohhhh, come _on_!" he complained.

"Frank, Frank, Frank…," Hobbes sighed, shaking his head disappointedly.

"Okay, look on the bright side," Andy said calmly. "At least we know he'll be easy to rescue. Come on, Calvin – get the box out and let's get him back."

Calvin nodded and headed for the closet.

"Yeah," Socrates added. "And even brighter side: we may finally get a chance to meet Frank's girlfriend."

Calvin froze with his hand on the doorknob. "Wait… Frank has a _what_-now?"

* * *

><p>"As glad as I am that you have a social life outside of trying to conquer the world," Sherman said calmly, "I must ask why you have brought <em>me <em>here against my will. Not trying to advocate kidnapping or anything, but isn't Calvin your mortal enemy?"

"Oh, relax," Dr Brainstorm sneered. "I'll send you back once I'm done with you."

"You will?" Veronica asked, looking surprised. "Won't he just rally your enemies together to defeat you? Maybe we should just destroy him now."

"Look, as adorable as you two are, I really must be going. I have lesson plans to figure out. I have a curriculum to plan. An academic future hangs in the balance unless I can go home now and finish it."

"Huh! A likely story!" Dr Brainstorm snapped. "But I have better plans for _you_. Your knowledge is required."

Sherman sighed. "I really should start charging for this service…," he muttered. "Okay, fine. What do you want to know that's so important?"

"Oh, you'd never _willingly_ help me conquer the world! I intend to take the knowledge _itself_ from you!"

There was a long pause as they stared at each other.

Sherman looked around the room curiously. "Er… that sounded like a setup for one of Jack's sarcastic remarks. Where is he?"

"Oh, Jack's gone, sweetie," Veronica said, leaning in close to smile at him. "My name's Veronica – I'm in charge now."

Swallowing with dread, Sherman immediately started looking around the room for some form of escape. He noticed a hatch to an air duct in the wall above the door, which didn't look all that far away from the back of Dr Brainstorm's head. Calculating quickly, the hamster knew what he had to do.

He jumped onto Veronica's head. She let out a yelp and jerked backwards, as he had expected, and he used the trajectory to jump onto Dr Brainstorm's face. The man let out a girlish shriek and flailed just enough that Sherman was able to direct him towards the grille on the wall, and he jumped across and grabbed onto it. Finding a structural weak point, he pried open the faulty corner and squeezed into the ducts.

"Why that filthy little _rat_!" Dr Brainstorm growled.

"_Hamster_!" Sherman's voice shouted back.

"Where's the duct that leads to the outside?" Veronica asked, wiping her face off.

"It passes by the elevator. There's a vent there as well."

"Then I know just what to do."

Sherman crawled through the vents as fast as he could. He was incredibly unfamiliar with the layout, so he didn't really know of any quick escape routes. He would just give them the runaround until they gave up or someone came to rescue him. He scurried this way and that, hoping that he was at least eluding them efficiently.

He ran up and down and around a few junctions, hoping he was on the right path when he heard a loud clanking noise come from down the junction next to him. Curious, he slowly made his way towards the sound, knowing that he would have to be careful of anything they were going to throw at him.

Imagine his shock when he found, just outside one of the vents, a mousetrap!

Stunned, he could only back away in horror. "Fiendish…," he murmured.

Then he heard a similar sound of metal moving behind him. He looked back over his shoulder and went to investigate, but he already had a pretty good idea as to what it was. He scurried around another corner and found another mousetrap waiting for him.

"Oh, this just isn't _fair_…," he moaned.

He went up a third duct, but he heard the same sound again, and now another mousetrap was being slid into place in front of him. He looked around, not sure what to do.

"We can do this all day, hamster!" Veronica's voice rang out, reverberating against the metal walls. "Come out willingly, and we'll let you forget once again just how small you really are."

Sherman gritted his teeth. He briefly considered crawling over the mousetrap and heading deeper into the ducts, but there wasn't a lot of room to effectively do that. He decided that his only real option was to trust that Calvin and the others would come to his rescue at some point. With no other alternatives, he held up his paws and marched out into the open.

He was immediately put in a hamster cage with a padlock.


End file.
